Animus
by Kitty Still Bites
Summary: Catherine Grey has been through a lot. Now, just when it seems like maybe she can finally have a normal life, everything goes wrong. Could it be that maybe she was never meant to have anything. Maybe she destined to be forever caught in a perpetual game of cat and mouse. Seqeul to Vendetta.
1. The Only Difference

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Scream'.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: ****The Only Difference between Martyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage**

* * *

'_Sit tight, I'm gonna need you to keep time_

_Come on, just snap, snap, snap your fingers for me_

_Good, good now we're making some progress_

_Come on, just tap, tap, tap your toes to the beat_

_And I believe this may call for a proper introduction, and well_

_Don't you see, I'm the narrator, and this is just the prologue'_

* * *

Death was a funny thing.

It could creep up on you quickly, and end you before sweeping of somewhere else, into the darkest catacombs of the world.

Or, it could sidle up to you like an old friend, and settle down to stay awhile, slowly sucking you away until you were nothing but a hollow shell.

It could be quick.

It could be painless.

It could be long.

It could hurt to no end.

The only sure thing about it was that it was the ultimate end of everybody in the universe.

Catherine Grey knew this.

She had seen it.

She had caused it.

She had been on the other end of that gun, pulling the that trigger, and watching the light fade from Billy Loomis' eyes.

She had been the one to swing that sledge hammer down on Stu Macher's skull, crushing it.

It had been here.

Not anyone else. And it was her burden to carry alone.

So why the hell couldn't she explain this to her roommate.

"Come on Cat, why won't you tell me?" Victoria Perry rolled over onto her stomach, her elbows resting on her bed and her chin in her pals.

Her long brown hair hung like a curtain around her face, the golden highlights glinting in the sunlight filtering into their dorm room. Annoyance glimmered in her hazel eyes.

"No." Catherine Grey rolled over onto her back, looking up at the ceiling with frustrated blue eyes. "And because you're going to ask again, no. Again."

She heard the frustrated sigh from the other girl, but paid it no mind. She was used to this- had to be used to this.

Especially after what had happened almost three years prior.

She closed her eyes, brow furrowing, trying to banish those thoughts, because honestly hadn't she thought about it enough.

Wasn't it enough that everytime she heard someone mentioning the book or the movie that she was thrown back to that night. Wasn't it enough that she couldn't get the feel of that sledge hammer out of her hands. Wasn't it enough that she could still feel Stu's blood and brains splattered over her.

Wasn't it enough that she still felt the weight of that damn gun. Wasn't it enough that she could still see the life draining from Billy's eyes?

Wasn't it enough that she still had nightmares about it. That Stu would never leave her alone, even in her dreams? That she knew that he still loved her right up to the very end, and that she killed him anyway?

Didn't she have to live through it all enough. And yet these people wanted to ask her about it. They wanted her to relive it. How could she?

Nearly three years prior, Cat had been in Woodsboro, California, a senior in high school, poised to graduate and go on to bigger and better things. She had a steady relationship with her boyfriend, a great circle of friends, and scholarships to art and film schools all lined up for her.

And then the shit hit the the fan. Because then she found out that her great circle of friends wasn't so great. That two of her friends, Billy- Sid's boyfriend- and Stu- Cat's former boyfriend-, were planning to ruthlessly murder Sidney, Cat's best friend, and even Cat herself. Their friend Tatum had been killed. Tatum's older brother Dewey had almost died. Randy, Cat's boyfriend, had almost died. Hell, Cat and Sid themselves had almost died too.

Cat couldn't help but envy people like Vicky, who had an intense curiosity about these sort of things. She also felt resentment for them too, because she knew she would never be like that again. Whatever happened in her life, she would never be the same girl from before.

"Cat…"Vicky whined, her voice reaching a high octave.

"Don't ask me anymore." Cat finally snapped, rolling off her bed and onto her feet. "If I wanted to tell you I would have!"

And just like that she swept out of their room, leaving behind a very surprised looking Victoria Perry.

She couldn't stand them. Honestly she couldn't.

There wasn't a single language where 'no' meant 'yes', so why then did Vicky insist on asking? Didn't she have better things to worry about than asking Cat about the murders. Didn't she have better things to do than question her roommate about being a murderer.

Murderer….because that's what she was, wasn't she? A murderer. She had killed two people, and it had taken its toll on her. When you killed people you were a murderer, no questions asked. Whether she murdered them in cold blood or not, that wasn't the issue.

She had killed two people, and she had to make up for it now.

Penance. She was being punished. Not by God almighty. She didn't believe in him- couldn't believe in him, especially after what happened. Cat had never been religious before.

No, this penance….this sentence of guilt and pain and disgust was brought on by herself.

She was punishing herself.

She wondered if this was the way cops and soldiers in the battlefield felt, or if they got to the point where they just didn't think about it anymore. Maybe they had found some way to push it out of their minds.

Cat had never been able to do that. Because they were always there in the back of her mind, those two boys. Her friends….

Stu was always on the back of her mind. Perhaps, if she really tried she might be able to push Billy away, but honestly what was the point of that. He was still dead, and she was still the one that killed him. Why should she be allowed to push him away? Because she wasn't as close to him as Stu? Because she hadn't been in a relationship with him other than friendship? Because she hadn't loved him?

Of course, the love she had at one time felt for Stu kept him there. It had planted its seed in her mind, and now it was steadily growing. Billy was just one of the leaves. There was no real grief when it came to Billy. The only thing she would have lost with him was a sense of innocence that she had never even known she had before that night.

Perhaps if she hadn't killed Stu as well things might be that way.

And why did it have to be her anyway? Why had it all fell on her? Why couldn't Sid or Gale or Randy or Dewey have done it?

Of course, as soon as she thought this she felt like a traitor. They had all been grateful, hadn't they? They had all thanked her for saving them. But even then, the words were left hanging in the air, unsaid but still blaringly obvious.

'Thank you for doing it so we didn't have to.'

Cat sighed, running a hand through her hair, hoping for something, anything, to take her mind off of things. But of course, with the movie premier happening that very evening she knew that was impossible. She knew very well that Vicky's ass would be planted in one of those theatre seats as soon as the movie started, expecting to learn things about Cat.

And she would learn things, but they weren't all true, and that misinformation would be even worse.

She wished it was a weekday, so that she would have classes to go to, but midday on a Sunday all she had to do was think. It wasn't as if she was invited to do stuff anymore. Randy was the only one that she spent any large amount of time with.

She worked her way down the hallway of the dorms, not moving particularly fast, because she really wasn't heading anywhere. Because how could she go anywhere, and stand the looks people would give her. Because they would give her looks. That was a given. People in this small town knew her. They started approaching her the very day that she moved her boxes into the dorm.

A ringing made her stop, hand fluttering to the back pocket of her ragged jeans and pulling out her cell phone.

'Unknown' flashed across it, sending a shiver down her spine. She'd had her fair share of 'Unknown' callers and she was in no hurry to have anymore. But she knew how this worked. They would keep calling again and again until she answered. 'Might as well grab the bull by its horns,' she thought, before pressing the little green button and pressing the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" She asked, leaning against the brick wall of the hallway, right across from notice board.

"Catherine Grey?" A voice asked, deep and husky, and so familiar.

She knew that voice. It haunted her every step she took.

"Look, just….just leave me alone alright."

Her voice remaind strong, though her hand shook as she held it to her ear. Had people always been like this? Feeding off the fears of others?

It made her lose any hope she had ever had for the human species.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The voice asked, mocking innocence. Acting as if she should be okay with whoever it was doing this.

"Fuck you!" Cat snapped finally, her voice quivering. "Who are you? Who the hell are you to think that it's okay to do this?"

"I'm the person who's going to kill you." The voice said finally, slowly, and then they were gone and she was left standing there, holding the phone to her ear, suddenly fully immersed in those horrible memories.

* * *

_Applause, applause, no wait wait  
Dear studio audience, I've an announcement to make:  
It seems the artists these days are not who you think  
So we'll pick back up on that on another page  
And I believe this may call for a proper introduction, and well  
Don't you see, I'm the narrator and this is just the prologue_

* * *

When Hallie found her, cat was huddled against the wall, phone gripped tightly in her hand, staring blankly at the notice board, blue eyes far and distant.

"Girl," Hallie crossed her arms, looking down at Cat with her dark eyes. "Do you have any idea how dirty that floor is?"

Cat gave a start at the sound of her friend's voice and looked up at her, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips, before she looked around as if she suddenly realized she were sitting on the floor.

She stood slowly, dusting herself off, not meeting Hallie's gaze.

"I stopped by your dorm room." Hallie said. "Vicky said you got an attitude and stomped out. It actually sounded like you so I came to find you."

"Did you need something?" Cat asked, still not meeting Hallie's chocolate eyes, eyes fixed determinedly on the wall.

"Doing a bit of damage control with Sid. She's kinda messed up about the premiere. Thought it would do you some good too. If you come to our dorm we can get ice cream and watch Jeff Goldblum movies." Hallie reached forward, placing a hand on Cat's shoulder, but the smaller girl shrugged it off, finally turning her gaze onto her, eyes dark and dangerous.

"I don't want your pity Hallie. I am totally fine."

Even as she said the words, she knew how much of a lie they were. And she knew Hallie knew. But that didn't stop her from trying to convince herself. Because honestly, didn't she have to make herself okay.

"This isn't pity, Cat. This is me being your friend. Come watch some movies with us. Please."

Cat watched her friend for a moment, before finally sighing.

"Whatever, man. If I don't you'll never let me forget it."

And then she was being dragged back to Hallie's dorm room, where Sid was no doubt waiting for them, sitting on her bed, wondering if Cat would even come. When was the last time she had really spent time with her friend? Maybe, the fact of it was it hurt to much to look at Sidney, because everytime she did, she could only think of Tatum and Billy. God, she missed Tatum. She missed the perky blonde's sassy attitude and how she was so dependable. She missed how Tatum used to drag her out shopping, even though everytime, Cat would protest.

Now she wished she had just put up with it. She wished she had went to the movies with Tatum the weekend before the shit hit the fan, instead of staying in with Randy. She wished she hadn't nagged Tatum to return the blue blouse she borrowed.

Hallie, by far, was no replacement for Tatum. She was something all her own. Hurricane Hallie, as Cat liked to think of her. She was always around, trying to help Sidney, and Cat too. Maybe it was her inner psychologist comimg out, or maybe it was because she was a genuinely good person which were so hard to come by.

Secretly, Cat was grateful for this. Because Hallie was a good person, she put up with the emotional train wrecks that were Cat and Sidney. And really, who else beside Derek and Mickey could do that.

Randy didn't count- not really. After all, he had been through the ordeal as well. He understood.

And even if they didn't understand, Hallie, Derek, and Mickey all did a good job trying to understand.

And yet, even then, Cat found herself skirting around them like a whipped puppy. Timid, and not at all sure whether she was ready to invest herself in something when the last time had gone so horribly wrong.

Cat tried, she really did. But honestly, it scared her. She didn't know how to act around people anymore. Before, she had been confident and so sure of herself. Of course, that was before her ex-boyfriend tried to murder her. That can really change a person.

When the two finally reacher Hallie and Sid's drom, Sidney was sitting on the bed, reading through one of her text books.

She looked up as they walked through the door, smiling at the with that same sad smile she always used.

"So I was promised Jeff Goldblum." Cat said, smiling back as best she could. She was sure her smile mirrored Sid's.

"I was promised ice cream." Sid said. "She must really be serious."

She patted the bed next to her, and Cat sat, leaning back against Sidney's pillows, before turning her head to look at Hallie.

"Best get your ass out there and get the shit you promised us Hallie."

* * *

**Author's Note: This was the hardest chapter to write ever. Honestly, I must have started and scrapped this chapter at least fifteen times. Even now I don't feel like I did it justice. At any rate, its finally out, and the next chapter's should be easier. As you can see, I'm trying something different with this story. It will have a different format entirely, as I decided it would be good practice for when I start my 'Walking Dead' story. I tried very hard to make the changes in Cat's personality evident. I feel that I did that well at least. Anyway, her it is. **


	2. Kill the DJ

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Scream'.**

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**Chapter Two: Kill the DJ**

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_Walking after dark  
In the New York City park  
Your thoughts are so unholy  
In the holiest of holes  
Onward Christian soldiers  
Filled with jive and mind control  
The blood left on the dance floor  
Running running red  
The bullet that you asked for  
Killing you to death  
Unless you  
Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ  
Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ  
Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ  
Voices in my head are saying  
"Shoot that fucker down!"_

* * *

Victoria Perry had seen a great many things in her life. She had seen her older sister get married. She had been present when that same sister had given birth a little more than a year later. She had seen her Nana holding Pop's hand for the last time in that hotel room.

But nothing would ever compare to what happened in that theater, watching Maureen Evans die onstage and thinking it was a fucking joke.

Vicky could remember clearly sitting there with Lindsay, watching the movie, when the girl had stumbled in front of the screen. Vicky vaguely recognized her from around campus, but she had never actually talked to her.

But she knew, when she realized that Maureen Evans was not playing a joke, that she had never been more scared in her life. Everything after that passed by in a sort of daze. Running oout of the theater. Getting into Lindsay's car, neither of them speaking. Heading back to the dorms. Going back to her room, and even though she didn't like the girl, she prayed that Cat would be there so she wouldn't have to be alone in the room.

And, of course, she wasn't. Her bed was empty, not having been touched since Cat had stomped out earlier that day.

If Vicky hadn't been in a such a daze, she might have felt bad for that. Not enough to apologize of course, but enough that the guilt would pick at the back of her mind.

But honestly, what had she to apologize for. She was only curious. Cat was the fickle one. Anytime someone asked her about it she was the one out of line. Her hackles would raise, almost like some sort of animal ready to defend herself.

'Like a cat,' Vicky thought absently, only not like a cat. Not really. Catherine Grey was much too fierce for that. 'Maybe a lion or a tiger or a leopard or something. But not just some ordinary house cat.'

She had heard before that when the police had gotten to the house that night of the murders Cat had been crouched next to Stuart Macher's body just staring at it.

Vicky could never understand that. Surely Cat should have been happy they were dead. It had to be a good thing that they weren't there to try and murder her anymore.

Vicky sighed, shaking her head. She knew that if someone tried to murder her she would kill them, and be damn proud of herself for it too.

She had been giddy with excitement when she learned that _the_ Catherine Grey would be her roommate. She was famous after all. Everyone in the country knew her now, after the Woodsboro Murders had been on national news. There had been reporters flying down from New York to Woodsboro to interview her and the other survivors. Mostly her though, because she was the one to kill the murderers.

Vicky remembered hearing that the girl had refused to give any interview at all. She refused to tell what happened or why it happened.

But Vicky didn't care at the time. She only cared that everybody would be wanting to crowd to _her_ room, because _she_ had the famous roommate.

But what use was a famous roommate when they didn't take advantage of that fame. Now, Vicky wished she had gotten Sidney, the much more docile of the two.

Vicky sat on her bed, back against the headboard, and knees tucked up under her chin. Somehow, she doubted sleep would come.

She hadn't realized she'd drifted off until the phone rang, making her jump.

She turned her head, looking at the phone that sat on her nightstand. The caller I.D. read 'Lindsay Billings'.

Vicky leaned over, plucking the pgone off the charger and pressing the 'answer' button. She could understand Lindsay calling. The girl was probably terrfied and in need of consoling after what had happened that night.

"Hey Lindsay." Vicky said, her voice quiet. Not her usual confidence-exuding sound.

"Vicky?" A deep, husky voice asked, making the girl tense.

It definitely was not Lindsay's voice.

"Yeah. Who is this?"

"This is the last person you're ever going to see alive." The voice said dangerously, tone low.

It sent a shiver up Vicky's spine.

* * *

_We are the vultures  
The dirtiest kind  
The culture wars in your heart and mind  
Walking after dark  
In the New York City park  
Beer goggles left in the club  
My pocket full of pills  
Sodom and Gommorah  
In the century of thrills_

* * *

Lindsay Billings didn't like walking anywhere on campus when it was dark, even if it was just up to her dorm. The face that the parking lot was a good eight minute walk from her dorm didn't help either.

And the fact that she had just watched a girl die a very bloody, gruesome, and painful death definitely didn't help.

But Lindsay was going to power through. That's all there was to do. Tomorrow she could bask in the comfort that her boyfriend Bobby would surely offer her but tonight she just wanted to get back to her dorm and drink that bottle of vodka she had hidden and make everything go away.

But first she had to gather her nerve. And that's why she was sitting in her car, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Ever since she had first heard the story about Lena Porterfield, the girl who had been supposedly murder in the stacks at the library, she hated being out of her dorm after dark. She loved the comfort that the small room offered her, and she loved that she had a roommate to talk to.

But first she had to walk that long walk to her dorm.

She cast one last, long look outside before finally opening the door and stepping out, shivering slightly from the cool night wind.

It was late, maybe eleven or so. Lindsay and her friend Vicky had been quick to leave the theatre along with a slew of other people, simply so they wouldn't have to endure long questioning from the police.

Still, they had made it a point not to return directly back, choosing instead to loiter around town.

They had hoped to calm down, and while they had appeared calm, the fear in their eyes was unmistakable.

Lindsay didn't envy Vicky. The girl had to share a room with Catherine Grey, who had proved on more than one occasion that she was still caught up on the murders. This would surely upset the girl.

Lindsay ran a hand through her pale blonde hair, twirling it around her fingers as she commonly did when she was nervous, as she looked around the parking lot, checking for cars.

Perhaps, subconciously, she was checking for psychotic killers as well. Before that may have seemed far-fetched, but now it was perfectly plausible.

She moved quickly onto the sidewalk, and it wasn't until she was halfway to the dorm that she realized she had left her purse in her car.

"Shit." She mumbled, turning back in the direction she had come from. Her I.D. and wallet and cell phone were all there, as well as her Windsor College identification card. Mentally cursing herself for forgetting it, she hurried back towards the parking lot, jogging quickly.

She nearly screamed when she heard a sound off to her right, but when she turned to look, nothing was there.

"Calm down Lindsay," she said, reprimanding herself. "It was probably just a squirrel or something."

She rounded a corner, eyes scanning the parking lot as it came into sight.

And then she tensed, realizing that her car door was open, and her purse had spilled out onto the ground, the contents scattered all around.

"Fuck!"

She had closed the door hadn't she? Thinking back though, she couldn't remember whether she had or not.

But why was her purse out on the ground?

Biting her bottom lip, she moved forward, crouching down by her purse to pick it up, before shoving her things back into it.

Everything from her lip gloss to her wallet was there.

Everything but her cell phone.

Just as she started to look around for it, something gripped her hair harshly, yanking her head back, before clapping a hand over her mouth, preventing her cry of fear and pain from ringing out,

She was pulled back and shoved on the ground, her purse being knocked from her hands again.

Lindsay lashed out suddenly, trying with all her might to hit her attacker, but whoever it was grapped her wrists with one large hand.

The hand over Lindsay's mouth was pulled away, but her breath caught in her throat when a knife was suddenly shoved into her stomach.

Black dots filled her vision, and the last thing Lindsay saw before she died was a white ghost face mask.

* * *

_Walking after dark  
In the New York City park  
Beer goggles left in the club  
My pocket full of pills  
Sodom and Gommorah  
In the century of thrills  
The blood left on the dance floor  
Running running red  
The bullet that you asked for _

_Killing you to death  
Unless you_

* * *

When Cat woke up it was to her cell phone ringing loudly by her ear.

With a groan she sat up, rubbing her eyes and blinking blearily in the sunlight that streamed into the room.

"Hello?" She said, still half-asleep, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Cat! Are you okay?" A familiar voice asked.

"Randy?" She asked, stifling a yawn.

She was calm, traces of her old self filtering through in her state of tiredness.

"Yeah. Thank God. Why didn't you answer your phone?" She could hear the releif in his voice. It was obvious, and yet so out of place.

"Randy, what's going on?" She asked, getting to her feet, casting a glance at the still-sleeping forms of Sidney and Hallie.

"Where are you?" Randy asked, pointedly ignoring her question.

"Sidney and Hallie's room. What's going on?"

"I'll be there in a few." Randy said.

"_Randy!_"

"Just trust me Cat. I'll be there in a few minutes. Don't turn on the news. And please, don't open the door for anyone but me.""

And then he was gone, and Cat stood there for a moment, phone in hand, wondering just what the hell was going on.

"What's going on?"

She turned at the sound of Hallie's voice to see the other girl looking at her, eyes still drooping shut.

"I have no idea."

* * *

_Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ  
Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ  
Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ  
Hold him underwater  
'Till the motherfucker drowns  
We are the vultures  
The dirtiest kind  
The culture wars in your heart and mind  
Someone's gonna to get you boy  
Shoot that fucker down  
Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ  
Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ  
(Walking after dark)  
Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ  
Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ  
Someone kill the DJ  
Shoot the fucking DJ_

_Voices in my head are saying  
"Shoot that fucker down!"_

* * *

**Author's Note: I was working all weekend just so I could get this posted tonight. I'd like to thank everybody who has reviewed so far. In this chapter we see a death, and a more in-depth view of Vicky. Next chapter, we will see some Randy, and not just on the phone. Also, the aftermath of Vicky's call. **


	3. The End

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Scream'.**

* * *

**Chapter Three: The End**

* * *

_We tried to fight for what we thought that we believed in  
Maybe it was all for nothing (I bet that it was all for nothing)  
So we drive 'cause we like to be alone  
There's nowhere for us to go  
There's nowhere for us to go  
How can you think that any of this was easy  
With all the friends I've lost along the way?  
When this is over, we're all getting older now  
And we all play a part in it  
Innocence is falling, can you hear them calling now?  
But I'll be by your side until the end_

* * *

Desiree Martinez had seen a lot of things in her twenty years of life, though none of them were quite as intense as Catherine Grey when the girl was working out. Honestly, Dez didn't envy any fucker who tried to mess with Cat. If they saw her now, surely they would run, screaming, in the opposite direction.

It was certainly a sight to behold. Cat, in the workout room, going at the punching bag with a certain vigor that Dez had never seen before. Sweat dripped down her brow and her hair stuck to her forehead, and her breathing was heavy, but she kept at it, her punches and kicks a frenzy of movement.

It had been almost three years when Dez had met Cat. The day after she had come to town to attend Windsor college. Dez herself didn't attened. She had dropped out of highschool at a young age to help her father manage the gym.

Dez remembered the day perfectly. She had been bored, leaning against the counter, looking through the latest issue of 'Sports Illustrated' since it was the only magazine her father ever bought. There was a stack of fluffy white towels on the counter beside her that she just hadn't gotten around to folding. Her dad, Alberto Martinez, was trying to figure something out on the computer.

It was just past noon, and Dez was starting to wonder if she should head down to the pizza place down the street and get them one for lunch when the door opened, and in she stepped.

She was looking around, blue eyes narrowed and calculating, taking in the details of the gym.

Right from that moment, Dez knew this was a girl that wasn't to be messed with. It didn't matter that she was a tiny five-foot nothing girl. It didn't matter that she looked like she could be broken in half by a big gust of wind.

There was a certain wariness about her. An odd look in her eyes. She was a force to be reckoned with. Something dangerous.

And then she had turned those haunted blue eyes onto Dez and her father, and her lips had formed a thin line as she took them in, sizing them up.

"_Hola." _Her father greeted.

The girl regarded him carefully before nodding at him.

"Hello."

Her voice was light and feminine, but the defined hardness behind it was unmistakeable.

"Can we help you?" Dez asked, crossing her arms and cocking a brow.

"How much is the membership fee?" The girl asked.

"Thirty to join. Fifteen a month."

The girl nodded thoughtfully before reaching into her back pocket and pulling out a wallet.

"Where do I sign up?"

And now, she was a common sight in the gym. Every morning, before classes, after her run she would show up for a regular work out, and then depending on her schedule day to day she would come back.

With a sigh, Dez watched as Cat threw another punch at the punching bag, brow furrowed and a scowl set firmly on her face.

Her boyfriend, Randy, watched from nearby, looking worried.

"Cat…"

She whipped around to face him suddenly, eyes flashing as she met his gaze. Her jaw was clenched and her muscles were tensed.

Suddenly, Dez wished she knew what had happened. They had just showed up a few hours ago and Cat had been working out ever since.

How Randy dealt with that, she didn't know. She had learned in those three years that Cat was someone to tread lightly around, for fear of setting her off.

Dez knew that both Cat and Randy were survivors of the 'Woodsboro Murders'. She had picked up the book and read it about a week after she met Cat. Of course, she'd never worked up the nerve to ask Cat about any of it. She could guess how affected the girl was after she had killed the two guys.

"We need to get back." Randy said carefully. "I have a class, and you need to rest."

Cat scowled at him, her eyes hardened like chips of blue flint.

Randy moved forward, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him, eyes softening slightly.

'He,' Dez mused silently,'Is probably the only person in the world to be able to do that.'

"Lets head back. I need a shower."

Randy smiled slightly, and rested his hand on the small of Cat's back, guiding her along.

* * *

_We tried to fight, I guess sometimes you find it's pointless  
As long as you can live with yourself  
(Tell me how you live with yourself)  
So it's time that we take the open road  
There's nowhere for us to go  
There's nowhere for us to go_

* * *

Randy's favorite thing about college was the fact that it wasn't Woodsboro. Initially, when he had been living at home, before the murders, he knew he wanted to get out of Woodsboro. After the murders, though, he knew he needed to.

And he knew how much Cat desperately needed to get out of there. He remembered how, the day after graduation she had went home and packed all of the things she would need. He remembered helping her go through her closet, watching as she scrutinized each piece of clothing closely. Cat had never been an overly feminine person, but she did have nice clothes that she wore to dress up in. And almost every blouse and skirt and pair of dress pants were tossed in the garbage bag that he held. He remembered thinking that maybe it wasn't so strange. After all, Cat's mother had bought most of those clothes, and Cat's fragile relationship with her mother was no secret. But then Cat had moved over to her bookshelf where she had kept her sketch books since she was very young. Every sketch book she had ever had was on this shelf. And her she was, pulling them off the shelf, flipping through them, eyes indifferent, before she tossed them in the trash bag.

He remembered his reaction, how he had protested. How he had demanded she get them out and keep them.

"Randy," She said, exasperated. "You have to be relentless with this stuff."

He remembered his realization then, that Cat had become a different person since the murders. It was such a distinctly different person that it scared him.

But he still loved her. God, he loved her. He would always love her. She was intoxicating in her own way. The way she would turn those blue eyes on him, and the way her freckles were everywhere. Across her face and neck and down her shoulders and arms and back and legs.

God, she was such a huge part of his life. She had weaved her way in, and he knew there was no breaking those threads away even if he wanted to.

And he doubted that he'd ever want to. Not with Cat.

Now, he was getting out of his final class of the day, and there she was standing outside the door, staring blankly at the wall before her.

She turned to look at him as he approached, eyes dark and dangerous. She had been thinking about it again. Not that he could really hold that against her. He had been thinking about it too.

"Vicky called me." Cat said as he approached. "Said the killer called her last night from Lindsay Billings phone. They had been out at the movies last night. She said that they found Lindsay dead in her car this morning."

With a sigh, Randy moved forward, wrapping her in his arms, pulling her close, and she bent easily into him, resting her head against his chest, and letting out a shuddering breath.

She was shaking slightly, the tension in her body obvious.

"Come on. I'll take you to my dorm. You can take a nap. I'll stay with you."

She looked up at him then, absolute trust gleaming in her blue eyes.

"Yeah." She said with a nod. "Okay."

"Cat! Randy!"

The two turned at the sound of their names to see Sidney hurrying up to them.

"Reporters are outside." Sidney said. "Gale is here."

Cat sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Of course she is."

"They're talking about the murders. You two had better come on."

Randy turned to look at Cat, wishing that she would say no and go to his dorm. She was so tired. Drained from everything that had happened. None of this was good for her. She was still in pieces from two years ago. How this would affect her, he couldn't be sure. And that scared him.

"Yeah." She said. "Okay."

* * *

_How can you think that any of this was easy  
With all the friends I've lost along the way?  
When this is over, we're all getting older now  
And we all play a part in it  
Innocence is falling, can you hear them calling now?  
But I'll be by your side until the end  
To all my friends, let's make this count  
We're not alone, not alone_

_How can you think that any of this was easy  
With all the friends I've lost along the way?  
When this is over, we're all getting older now  
And we all play a part in it  
Innocence is falling, can you hear them calling now?  
And I'll be by your side until the end _

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I intended for this to be nice and long, so I'm sorry for the relative shortness and lateness of this. I've been very busy as of late. Things should start picking up and being longer now, hopefully. At any rate, you get to meet Dez in this chapter. I picked around for the longest time about how I would introduce her, and I feel this is an acceptable way. With the kind of person that Cat is, I think she would immediately start finding ways to make herself strong and self-sufficient and capable. In that sense she reminds me a bit of Scarlett from 'Gone With the Wind'. Looking back at the opening chapters in 'Vendetta', I realize how much Cat has changed from there to the point she is at now. In the movies, we see that yes, Sidney progressively becomes unwilling to trust others. With Cat I hoped to accomplish something more. If I had to choose a word to describe Cat, it would be 'fighter', because at the end of the day, isn't that what she is? She fought for her right to leave. Now she fighting for her privacy and she's fighting to show everyone that she had pulled through from the murders. But there's also a part of Cat that Randy sees. The fragile part of her that broke when she killed Stu. It wasn't Billy's death that took that toll on her, I don't think. It was Stu's and I wanted that to come across clear in this story. Randy sees this part of Cat, because he loves her unconditionally. He would go through hell for her. He knows her better than she knows herself. And he knows just how easy it would be for her to break completely. He sees her teetering on the edge here, with everything going on, and I felt it was of vital importance to show this. At any rate, that's it for this chapter. The song for this, by the way, is 'The End' by Mayday Parade.**


End file.
